


Cadence

by brokeandgorges



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Drum Corps, Alternate Universe - Marching Band, Angst, Dick Jokes, F/F, F/M, Fluff, If You Squint - Freeform, Literally everyone is here - Freeform, M/M, Mutual Pining, Terushima is a Chaotic Bi(TM), but i'll list them as they appear, i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-22 10:18:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14306580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokeandgorges/pseuds/brokeandgorges
Summary: n. The tempo, or number of beats per minute. Also a drum beat used while marching.--“Do you think if I ask nice enough he’ll teach me how to blow?” Kuroo asked with a smirk.“I don’t know but he has a tongue piercing.” Bokuto caught the drift.“He, what? Fuck,” Kuroo’s voice rose slightly above the normal decibel.--Akaashi blows.Bokuto bangs.Everyone else wish the others suck.





	1. Da Capo

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't been writing and posting for years now. i suddenly had an idea and this happened. it started as a BokuAka oneshot then I got to brainstorming and then I gave birth to a whole au chaptered fic lmao. 
> 
> this au is more of a mix of marching band/drum corps. so i won't say it's 100% factual. plus, it's based on my experiences as a band kid and some scenes are inspired by things that actually happen to me and my band.
> 
> anyway, almost everyone will be in here but everyone is everywhere. some of them aren't in the same team. i had to mix them up because it's hard to write a marching band with only 10 characters. 
> 
> p/s: this is not beta'd so there could be mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> adverb. repeat from beginning

“Alright! Listen up!” a loud mid-toned voice sprung up commanding attention from the large group before her.  


“I have the keys here,” she lifted her left hand, causing the keys mentioned to swing into each other and produce a tangle of chimes. “I have assigned one higher leadership each an apartment unit to oversee the inhabitants – which means all of you.” She emphasized the final part and gained several mischievous smirks from the group. “We are here to represent Kanto so I expect the best behavior from a Nationals team. You have until dinner to unpack and settle down. After then, we’ll meet up at the field for team briefing. Clear?”  


The group responded in an energetic cry in unison, drawing several attentions from passersby. The leader of the group seemingly pleased dismissed them and in an instant, the organized block of people dispersed like ants each to their own destination.  


“Akaashi,” the leader called out to a black-haired guy who still lingered. His eyebrows cocked slightly, almost dismissible to anyone inattentive as he walked towards her. “Yes, Yukie-san.”  


She hands him a ring of keys. “This is yours.”  


Akaashi took the keys from her and as he thanked her, an overzealous voice called his name. Not long after, a pair of hands draped around him followed by a whine. “Akaashi, sleep with me.”  


Yukie had already left and Akaashi has no one to run to so he resolved to entertain the man whose spiky silver hair was poking his cheeks. “Bokuto-san, I need my hands to lift my stuffs.”  


Bokuto jumped off Akaashi and lift his right arm. “That’s alright, Akaashi. I’m strong. I can help carry yours,” he said as he flexed his arm, biceps stretching the nicely fitted grey sleeve of his shirt.  


Akaashi sighs, admitting that he could never get tired of seeing those biceps, or abs, or quads, or ass-“That’s not necessary, Bokuto-san. I can carry it myself.” Yes, Akaashi Keiji appreciated the muscle showcase he was getting but he couldn’t let Bokuto carry both him and Bokuto’s stuffs. Bokuto had to carry not only his luggage but also his instrument which, in fact, is a fucking snare drum. Akaashi wasn’t a sadist; that’s Yukie’s thing.  


Akaashi picked his stuff up and went ahead to the designated apartment. He passed an apartment near the stairs, doors wide opened and a ruckus could be heard.  
“If I found out even one single soul gives Hana a hard time, you will be dealing with me, got it?” The soft voice and smile from Yukie only adding the weight of the threat she just threw.  


A unison “Yes, sir” was heard before they scrambled away into their rooms.  


“Yukie, you don’t have to do that.” Hana timidly said.  


“I’m the Band Captain. I have to do that.” Yukie responded which Hana sighed to, exasperatedly.  


When Akaashi reached his apartment, people were still moving around, trying to decide which room they wanted. Akaashi looked around and figured there were four rooms with four beds. The one near the front door was the largest with only two beds so he decided to let those with larger and more stuff to have that room.  


“No, we can’t. The Vice Captain should have the larger room,” a second year said.  


“But you have a tuba with you. You need the space more than I do,” Akaashi tried to convince her.  


“It’s okay. We’ll be fine.” She stubbornly declined. “Please, take that room.”  


“Nice! We can have this large room to ourselves, Akaashi!” Bokuto’s voice had beaten Akaashi to it. Akaashi turned around to see Bokuto unloading his luggage on a bed. Too late.

 

“Here’s the rundown. As I’ve told you earlier, this one week will be filled with the final adjustments of our piece. We’ll focus on polishing our music and drills as well as adjusting to the field we will be competing on. I want us to be able to perform even with our eyes closed and legs bounded.”  


“Yukie-san! I know you’re into BDSM but I didn’t know we changed our theme.” A blonde haired guy cried from the edge of the block followed by trails of giggles.  


Yukie gave him a sharp glare before continuing. “I know we’re all aware that aside from us, the Valiant Eagles and the Panther Bastion made it to Nationals. No surprise there. However this year, we are graced by a new addition to the ranks, the Daedalian Spirits.”  


Whispers and mumbles erupted, breaking the disciplined silence the block had. A whistle rung above the noises and the block returned to order. “Who are they and how strong are they doesn’t matter. What matters is others are chasing after us and we can’t get complacent. So practice hard, practice smart. Clear?”  


A united fiery cry resonated over the field in response as they were dismissed  


“As for the trumpets, I expect 10 laps from all of you for that unneeded remark.” Yukie quickly added before the intended group tried to slip away unnoticed.  


The blonde-haired guy stuck his pierced tongue out while lifting his trumpet. “That’s 20 more for you, Yuuji.” Yukie added and a band of agonized groan followed suit.  


“Fuck you, Terushima-san.” Akaashi caught one of them said faintly as they started running.  


Then he turned to Yukie who was going over the practice plan for the week. “You sure that’s okay?”  


“Eh, it’s fine.” She answered without looking away from the file. “I don’t intend to let them run the whole 10 laps, anyway.”  


Just out of Yukie’s eyesight, near the edge of the field, Akaashi saw a group of percussionists in disarray, drumsticks in their hands but no one at their instruments. He made sure that Yukie was still occupied with her work and excused himself. “Yukie-san, I’ll go ahead and check on the sections.”  


Yukie hummed without looking up from the file and Akaashi walked away in a mix of composed and rushed stride. Knowing Bokuto, he knew Bokuto had something to do with the percussionists not practicing. And knowing Yukie too, he knew it was better that he deal with this himself.  


“Bro, I see you put on some muscles. Nice,” a familiar rough voice that didn’t belong could be heard.  


Bokuto flexed both of his arms proudly. Oh, please don’t do that. Akaashi prayed for his resolution to strengthen.  


As Akaashi approached the end of the field, he noticed a familiar but out of place bedhead. “Good evening, Kuroo-san.”  


The percussionists immediately fled the scene and went back to their practice once they saw Akaashi standing nearby, hands at each side and a face difficult to read – all except for a silver-haired guy and a cat-like smirking bedhead.  


“Akaashi-san~” Kuroo tried to pull him into a hug but was avoided effortlessly. “My favorite Band Captain.” He said as he straightened himself.  


Akaashi wanted to correct him but thought that no one was harmed thus it was easier to leave it be. He then turned to Bokuto who were crossing his arms across his chest. God, how I would give anything to drown between those arms.  


“Shouldn’t you be practicing, Bokuto-san?”  


Bokuto let out a hearty laugh that Akaashi adored. Be strong o resolution! “Well, Kuroo come by to visit. I can’t possibly leave him alone.”  


“I sure hope that is what our dear Kuroo Tetsurou is doing.” Akaashi leered at Kuroo. “An innocent visit.”  


Kuroo winked. “You bet I am. Innocently visiting my best friend, Bokuto Koutarou.”  


“You Panthers do have a reputation.”  


“Reputation that says we’re a strong, creative and talented band set to win the Nationals this year? I’m honored.”  


“Actually, we-“ Bokuto was cut off by Kuroo’s cry. “Hana!”  


Akaashi turned around to see Hana approaching them. His eyes darted around and were relieved when Yukie wasn’t with her.  


“Kuroo, I heard about your promotion. Congratulations!” Hana warmly welcomed him which Akaashi eyed warily. It wasn’t that Akaashi hated Kuroo but he was being realistic. And realistically, the opponent shouldn’t hang around too close to their practice space. Especially that said opponent was someone from the infamous Panthers Bastion.  


“Thank you, Band Captain.”  


“Now, we’re both Percussion Leaders! Woohoo!” Bokuto hung one arm around Kuroo as he cheered.  


“Yeah, bro. This year’s drum battle will be fire!” Kuroo’s and Bokuto’s eyes lit up.  


“I’m looking forward to it too.” Hana joined in.  


“Oh damn. Please tell me you’re joining too, Hana.”  


“Of course I will! You know I love my babies.”  


Both Kuroo’s and Bokuto’s eyes twinkle even brighter than the stars above them. “Fuck yeah!”  


The three percussionists’ celebration came to a halt when a sad, cringey rendition of ‘My Heart Will Go On’ resounded. All four attentions immediately shifted to the center field, where a blonde-haired was standing on a stool with a trumpet to his lips.  


Kuroo whistled. “Who’s that hottie?”  


“That’s Terushima Yuuji. Second year, Trumpet Leader.” Hana replied.  


“Do you think if I ask nice enough he’ll teach me how to blow?” Kuroo asked with a smirk.  


“I don’t know but he has a tongue piercing.” Bokuto caught the drift.  


“He, what? Fuck,” Kuroo’s voice rose slightly above the normal decibel.  


“Kuroo-san, how is Kenma doing?” Akaashi shot a glance at his direction.  


Kuroo smile faltered. “Speaking of that, I better check on him. Bye!” He said as he sprinted out of sight.  


Soon, a red-haired girl came stomping towards Yuuji and kicked him off the stool. “What the fuck, Yuuji. Do you have your head so up your ass; you forgot we’re in practice?”  


“Nope, but it might be suffering from concussion.” Yuuji cheekily replied, as he lifted his body off the grass.  


“Does he have a death wish?” Hana said worriedly and jogged in their direction.  


With every distraction gone, Bokuto went back to his snare in the middle of the practicing group of percussionists and started with a few basic strokes. Akaashi just watched as he instructed his section to go over their cadences together. Akaashi’s eyes fell onto his hands skillfully hitting the snare, only the wrists are moving – nothing else.  


Bokuto was an expressive individual. Both his actions and words spoke louder simultaneously – on some days, his words were just him talking in a booming external voice. However Bokuto’s understanding of music as a percussionist wasn’t just loud banging and vigorous sticking. He understood a piece’s story and emotions and how softening his strokes to highlight another instrument’s part were as essential as a thunderous cadence for a spirited charge.  


“Your snare needs tuning, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said once they were finished.  


“Okay, we’ll do it after practice together, Akaashi.” Bokuto’s smile blinded Akaashi.  


From a glance, one wouldn’t think this fervid, wide-eyed burly guy was capable to lead a section. Far too fidgety, too impulsive, too not serious. But when the time comes and he has to be in line and take the charge, he put his money where his mouth was. After all, Bokuto didn’t sit around and wait for the position Percussion Leader to be handed to him. He earned it.  


Seeing this made Akaashi realize how much he loved music as well as the smell of grass in the morning after a rainy night and freshly brewed coffee. And then there was the multifaceted side of Bokuto Koutaro which reigned above all.

 

 

“Uwaa, that’s so refreshing!” Bokuto cried as he entered the shared room with one hand busy drying his hair with a towel.  


Akaashi paused from wiping his trumpet to look up at Bokuto who stood at the entrance in only a pair of shorts. Akaashi stole a glance at the defined bulges of Bokuto’s muscles, from his pectoralis major to the three sets of rectus abdominis. It wasn’t anything new to Akaashi but he always made sure to take note of them.  


“Please put on a shirt, Bokuto-san. You’ll catch a cold.” Akaashi advised as his eyes followed Bokuto walking to a garment rack mounted to the wall to hang his towel.  


“But I like the cold wind.”  


“We can’t have anyone getting sick before the competition.”  


“But Akaashi~” Bokuto rushed to Akaashi’s side on his bed and threw his arms over Akaashi.  


Akaashi sigh and placed his trumpet back in its case. He turned to his side and held Bokuto’s face. “I can’t have you getting sick, Koutarou.”  


Bokuto’s dashed his signature grin. “I won’t get sick if you’re with me, Akaashi.”  


Akaashi eyes soften and a smile found its way. He looked at the damp black-streaked gray hair draping Bokuto’s head in contrast to his usual crazy updo. Past the gray curtains was a pair of golden orbs which drew Akaashi in the more he stared at it.  


Akaashi’s lips found Bokuto’s and Akaashi let himself melt into the kiss. He felt Bokuto moved beneath his hand as Bokuto pulled him closer. The smell of mint from Bokuto’s shampoo, the feel of Bokuto’s muscle beneath his palm and the pressure from Bokuto’s lips against his filled all of Akaashi’s senses.  


“We’re technically not in school or band. You know you can call me Keiji, right?” Akaashi breathed out once they pulled away.  


“Okay, Keiji.” Bokuto hummed before lunging in for another kiss.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next**
> 
>  
> 
> “Ohohoho, so our Simpleton Ace finally loses his virginity. How was it?”  
> “The only thing that is loss is my peace when you arrive, Kuroo-san.”  
> 
> 
> im still not satisfied with this chapter but if i keep nitpicking stuffs nothing will come out. so yea...and if y'all notice fukurodani & johzenji are in the same team. and nekoma is in panther bastion. there's another team in panther bastion. try to guess what team is it also who's in valiant eagles and daedalian spirits lol. and if y'all are wondering why not put bokuto & kuroo in the same team since they're **The Brotp**? its because i love their friendly rivalry dynamics as opposing sides lmao. tbh this chapter supposed to be longer but im excited to publish this so...and i think the next scene is suitable for me to introduce a different pov and teams. i hope you like this story!


	2. Dissonance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> noun. Lack of harmony among musical notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haikyuu stageplay soundtracks are what inspired me to write this au. i especially listen to "winners vs losers" ost when writing this chapter, or any seijou chapter tbh. seijou's theme is majorly filled with winds & strings intruments, with flute & violin highlights, so i had to write my seijou children playing them lol. if yall havent listen to it i highly recommend it!
> 
> on another note: who is plotline? i dont know her

Pleasant and charming, two words that best described Yahaba Shigeru. Or what the general public described him best. Underneath the soft brown hair and bright, round eyes were layers of traits, emotional and spiritual, that made up a different persona of what was physically manifested. Beyond his pleasurable looks, Yahaba carried a looming concern that slowly consumed him internally.

  
Standing behind rows of audience stands with a phone in hand, Yahaba convinced himself his presence there was valid. There was a logical explanation behind his actions. If he being there was what was needed to help everyone a step further, knowing if he was exposed he’ll be painted as a dishonest person who couldn’t respect the silent rule of the game, so be it. It was for the greater good.

  
Or so Oikawa convinced him.

Yahaba watched as the recording time on his phone reached ten minutes. Ten minutes. Ten minutes of the opposing side practicing their drills. Ten minutes of Yahaba suspiciously stood at a distance, contemplating his decision.

“What are you doing?”

Yahaba jumped at the gruff voice coming from behind him. _I’m caught! They’ll take me to the field where everyone can see me and crush my phone with their bare hands and make me do something embarrassing like dance to that embarrassing pineapple song or, even worst, they’ll-_

“Oi, answer me, Round Head.”

Once he gave himself some time to recuperate, Yahaba realized how weirdly familiar the voice was. He turned around while wondering how only one person had ever called him that name.

“Kyoutani.”

“You still haven’t answered me.”

Yahaba eyed the eye bag peeking underneath Kyoutani’s eyes as he thought of an answer. “I was taking some time to myself.”

Kyoutani gestured at Yahaba’s right hand. “While recording your ugly face, huh?”

Yahaba frowned at the insult thrown about his face. He may not be Oikawa, but he knew he was attractive as fuck. “Even if I do record my _pretty_ face, it’s none of your business.” He stashed his phone in his pocket and walked away, intentionally colliding with Kyoutani’s shoulder on the way.

Kyoutani growled at the physical contact that meant anything but friendly. He followed Yahaba down the steps while calling out to him. “Why are you doing this?”  
Yahaba stride quickened. While Yahaba is taller with longer legs thus had a wider stride, Kyoutani was stronger and faster. He caught up with Yahaba within a short distance and grabbed his hand to which Yahaba flinched.

“What? You want to fight me, now?” Yahaba cried.

Kyoutani realized he grabbed Yahaba way too rough which explained Yahaba’s reaction. Still, Yahaba stopped and as long it got the job done, then that was that.

“So Oikawa tells you to jump off of a cliff and you’ll do it?”

Yahaba gulped at the thunderous voice. He never once felt intimidated by the ominous presence Kyoutani often exhibited. His other peers, heck, even some seniors would avoid being near him but not Yahaba Shigeru. Yahaba saw a man with ridiculous hair dye and too much muscle, the brain wasn’t getting the oxygen it needed which explained why he talked with his fist far too frequent. However, standing under the ten a.m. sun and a pair of golden irises staring back at him, burning through his head compromised his stand.

“Now, kiss.”

Yahaba and Kyoutani simultaneously turned to the owner of the voice. The stranger looked at both of their faces – confused and mad – and said, “Oh, I’m sorry for interrupting. Please, continue.”

Yahaba exchanged glances with Kyoutani who shared the same expression as him before looking down at their intertwined hands. Yahaba quickly pulled his hand away.  
“I’m sorry, but who are you?” Yahaba asked.

The stranger flashed a grin. “I’m Daishou.”

There was a pause. Yahaba and Kyoutani exchanged glances as they waited for any further explanation pertaining to this Daishou person but none came.

“Is there…something you want from us?” Yahaba asked.

Daishou cocked his head to the left. “Well, you see. It was during practice and I felt like peeing. So I told Daichi I had to go and on the way back I saw two figures standing around near the back stand. I wondered did one of us was playing hooky or something, you know, because it happens sometimes with Tanaka. But I checked the block and everyone was accounted for. So, I’m left curious who exactly are hanging around our band practice, so suspiciously.”

Yahaba didn’t need to look to know Kyoutani was looking at him. They both damn well knew they were in trouble. Suspiciously hanging around another band’s practice session? Spot on. Might as well say he was recording their team practice session for their advantage. Daishou may be smiling, but Yahaba could sense Daishou already figured them out up to that point.

“But apparently it was just a pair of lovebirds trying to spend some private time.” Daishou added with a quirk of a smile.

 _Ah fuck, he definitely knew._ Daishou definitely knew why they were there initially. The sly smile was definitely the sign that all three of them are in the same page – the rival had sneaked in and tried to gain information on the practicing team. _We’re fucked._

“Yes, I was trying to spend some private time with my boyfriend,” Kyoutani said.

Wait, what? _What?_

Yahaba looked at Kyoutani in disbelief. Did Kyoutani Kentarou a.k.a. Mad Dog just used the _“we’re dating”_ excuse to get out of a difficult situation? _More importantly, I’m his boyfriend?_

“Oh, really?”

_Fuck, focus Yahaba. On to more important matters._

Yahaba grabbed onto Kyoutani’s arm. “Yeah. Practice and the competition are really stressing us out so we thought of hanging out somewhere quiet. Some alone time, you know.” Yahaba deliberately squeezed Kyoutani’s arm, totally not disregarding how firm the muscles were.

Yahaba’s eyes followed as Daishou glanced at his arms around Kyoutani’s, hoping it was enough for him to go away. Well, it better. He didn’t want to resort to kissing Kyoutani or something to convince Daishou. Not like Yahaba’d hate it, considering he did thought about it…once…some time ago – anyway, he wasn’t planning to do it in this circumstances.

“Sure,” Daishou said, his smirk never leaving his face even once, and left.

Both of them watched as Daishou walked back to the block far center of the field and waited until he was out of earshot before Yahaba let out a heavy sigh. “Fuck. He definitely knew what I was up to. I’m so dead. So. Fucking. Dead.”

“I don’t think he’ll snitch,” Kyoutani said.

Yahaba looked at him. “What makes you say that?”

Kyoutani shrugged. “He seemed like someone who enjoys having leverage over someone. I don’t think he’ll sell us out that easily. If anything, he’ll wait for the right time to spill.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing…”

“Losers gotta buy lunch!” A scream was suddenly heard as a figure came dashing pass Yahaba and Kyoutani, followed by a familiar voice. “Someone’s having a good day today.”

They turned around to see their senior walking with an unfamiliar guy, black-haired and slightly shorter than him. Yahaba felt like he may have seen him somewhere but couldn’t tell when and who exactly.

“Did our Simpleton Ace finally lose his virginity?”

“The only thing that is lost is my peace when you arrive, Kuroo-san,” the stranger said, with an expression so disinterested Yahaba couldn’t tell if he was joking or being serious. However, based on Kuroo’s smile, it must be the former.

Kuroo’s eyes perked up when he saw his juniors standing nearby and walked towards them. As he reached closer, his content smile turned into a smirk, so devilish, Yahaba started getting anxious. Being his junior for two years taught Yahaba how cunning his upperclassman could be when time calls for it. Even when he meant no harm, his smile always brought about a devious aura to it that agitated people. As such, the combination of crossed Kuroo and Oikawa was something the team always tried to avoid.

“I see you guys _finally_ confessed.” Kuroo said once he reached them.

Yahaba eyes narrowed. “What do you m-“ and then it hit him. Yahaba jumped off of Kyoutani’s arms as instantaneous as his racing heartbeat.

“I fucking called it. Issei and Takahiro better pay up!” Kuroo said to himself.

“Wait, no, it’s not what you think it is,” Yahaba stammered.

Kuroo winked. “Yeah, sure,” he said and walked away, joining the stranger from just now.

“No, wait, Kuroo-san, please, it-it’s not…” Yahaba called out but it was too late. Kuroo had gone too far for him to hear Yahaba’s pleads.

Yahaba rested his palms on his knees while silently cursing at his fate. He had one job,  _one fucking job_ and he fucking ruined it. Not only that he _had_ to get caught by the fucking Muscle Brain and the opponent figured him out and seemed like he would hold onto this info and use it to blackmail Yahaba. To add salt to the wound, his upperclassman thought him and Kyoutani were dating and won a bet. A bet. _My upperclassmen bet on the probability of me dating Kyoutani?_

“ARGH,” Yahaba wailed.

“Are you done feeling sorry for yourself? I’m hungry.”

Yahaba looked up to the figure before him. “How are you calm with this?”

“Why won’t I?”

Yahaba pulled himself up. “Our seniors were betting on us getting together.”

Kyoutani glanced at Yahaba and then looked away. “I have no problem with any of that.”

What did he meant? Yahaba stared at Kyoutani hard enough to burn a hole through his skull. No problem in any of that? Any of what? Did Kyoutani not mind about their upperclassmen betting on them? Or didn’t mind if they end up together?

And then everything clicked.

 

 

 

 

“What was that?” Yahaba slammed the table him and Kyoutani currently at.

Kyoutani was hungry and it was almost noon anyway, Yahaba figured they might as well had lunch so they went to a nearby café to eat. Furthermore, Yahaba need to escape from the revelation he just had. He had Kyoutani reserved a seat while he went and ordered their food. There weren’t any lines as they were ahead of lunch rush hour so it was a quick process. He went to the counter, ordered and waited for their food. Hardly much time passed by.

And yet, in that short duration, Kyoutani managed to get himself in a fight.

It was the sound of chairs falling that drew his attention to the glass window overseeing the tables located outside the café. Next to a fallen chair was Kyoutani, eyes filled with anger and hand fisting the shirt of another guy. He had a smirk on his face, a contrast to Kyoutani’s grim expression.

Yahaba hurriedly exited the café to break them off before more ‘physical interactions’ were made. The red-haired guy added a remark once they were separated before leaving, “Train your dog to stand down.”

For a second he had thought to let Kyoutani punch him for that remark but he had to be the bigger person here. So he let it slide and dragged Kyoutani into the café towards a table in a far corner.

“What was what?”

“I was gone for two whole minutes and you get yourself in a fight with someone. Can you think with your fucking brain instead of those ridiculous muscles for once?” Yahaba’s voice threading between calm and outraged.

He searched for Kyoutani’s eyes but Kyoutani continued staring at his tray of food, avoiding eye contact.

“I saw their shirt. They are with the Eagles, isn’t it?”

Kyoutani kept silent.

“Honestly, what were you thinking? Do you remember the last time you m-“

“I know what happened last time! I was fucking there!” Kyoutani’s voice roared throughout the café.

Yahaba’s lips pressed together, slightly taken back by Kyoutani’s outburst after being content with remaining at the receiving end of Yahaba's anger. His eyes scanned the café to see if they disturbed any patron of which, to Yahaba’s relief, they were the only ones there.

Kyoutani was heaving heavily, trying to calm down but obviously still affected by the situation. Yahaba felt a faint trace of guilt as he realized he touched a subject sensitive to Kyoutani.

“I’m sorry.”

“No. It’s not…you…”

He looked so distraught; Yahaba felt a prick in his chest.

“They were those guys, isn’t it? From last year.” Yahaba tried to slowly pry Kyoutani into talking but only a meager grunt came out of Kyoutani.

It wasn’t even a year ago when the incident happened. The incident that robbed Panther Bastion off the drumline championship and costed Kyoutani a one year suspension from the team. The suspension hadn’t even officially reached one year but Oikawa pulled some strings to have Kyoutani back on the quads. They were in need of one since Iwaizumi moved to snare. Plus, Kyoutani was an amazing percussionist; Yahaba had to give him that.

Bringing back Kyoutani was a risk but it was a calculated risk. A risk Oikawa decided to take to win Nationals. And all that effort would go in vain if Kyoutani got involved in another fight.

“Hey,” Yahaba softly called out. He knew Kyoutani won’t respond so he lightly touched Kyoutani’s forehead.

The wrinkle on Kyoutani’s forehead immediately faded. His ridiculous blonde head moved in place before lifting up and locked eyes with Yahaba’s softer brown ones. Yahaba hadn’t realized, not until now, how the rich golden irises so used to angry, piercing gaze could look so agonized. In fact, it never crossed his mind that Kyoutani could show any expression other than rage.

“Do you…want to talk about it?”

Yahaba felt pressure on his finger as Kyoutani leaned into it, putting his weight on it. Kyoutani maintained eye contact with him. “What else to talk about?”

Yahaba could feel his breath against his skin as Kyoutani spoke that sent a shiver throughout his body. Suddenly, making physical contact with Kyoutani seemed like a bad idea.

“I…I wasn’t there. I don’t know what happened. Everything that I know is from Oikawa.”

“Then you’ve heard everything.”

Yahaba hadn’t realized how strained his muscles were for lifting his arm until Kyoutani grabbed it and placed it on the table softly. He gulped at the gentle act that felt so foreign coming from Kyoutani.

There was warmth creeping up Yahaba’s limbs and up to his chest. A jumble of emotions fleeting that he couldn’t quite tell of what. Was it warmth for sympathizing with Kyoutani’s past that came back to haunt him? Or was it warmth from the softer golden hue-laden stare and subtle touches and shivering breath against skin and aching words that didn’t translate to his indifference?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this fluff? is it angst? flangst? idk anymore
> 
> i planned on writing a kuroo-centered chapter but then my mind suddenly attacked by bombs of kyouhaba ideas so here we are. initially i planned on wriitng a light chapter on them but then decide to go ham on them. pls give love to kyouhaba. i feel like they dont get enough love. but maybe thats just me
> 
> on unrelated note: im currently obsessed with hamilton musical


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